


Sometimes Dreams Do Come True

by lessthanpure



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Comeplay, Exhibitionism, M/M, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 16:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10925313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lessthanpure/pseuds/lessthanpure
Summary: In prison, Rafe gets a little hasseled. That's where the Drake boys come in.





	Sometimes Dreams Do Come True

**Author's Note:**

> So I did post this a while ago, but it before I created a separate porn-only account. So this is indeed mine.

"Heyy," a man drawls, sauntering over to Rafe where he's standing by himself off to the side of the yard. Rafe has purposely avoided the fights that sometimes break out in the yard, steering clear of as many inmates as he can. He hasn't been successful, obviously, and he looks up to see a man coming towards him, all of his instincts telling him 'bad news.' "¿Como te llamas?"

Rafe might not know much Spanish, but he knows 'what's your name' easily enough. "Me llamo es Rafe," he reluctantly divulges. "¿Y tu?"

"Very good, gringo," the man laughs, looking him up and down. Rafe isn't sure if he wants to deck him or kick him in the nuts more. "I'm Hernando. You should know because you'll be screaming it later."

Yeah, sure, Rafe just manages to stop himself from scoffing. "Listen, I'm flattered, but, see," Rafe starts to back up, putting at least some distance between them so that he could fight or flee if need be. An arm clamps firmly around his waist, and he's about to turn and deck the guy who has the audacity when he sees that it's no other than Nathan Drake. And he looks more angry than Rafe's ever seen him. The man actually feels a chill creep across his skin in the Mexico sun. 

"He's taken," Nathan says, voice cool. Rafe stares at him until the words sink in. He looks back at Hernando, who's sizing Nathan up. Rafe catches how is eyes flick over to him, and he leans against Nathan's side. This will protect all of them, mostly. 

"You sure," Hernando asks, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. 

"Pretty sure," another familiar voice says to Rafe's right, and another arm joins Nathan's, this one above the younger Drake's. Rafe looks over and yep, there's Sam. Rafe wants to do nothing more than close his eyes, but that would be showing weakness. Hernando's eyes glitter and he whistles, low and soft. 

"I'd pay a pretty penny to see that," the man remarks. Rafe shivers, and the Drake boys move fluidly and perfectly in unison. Nathan unhooks his hand from Rafe's right hip as Sam reels Rafe to stand behind the older Drake, shielding Rafe from Hernando. 

"Yeah, well, he's not into showing," Nathan says, smiling tightly. "And I'm not big into sharing with anyone else." Rafe knows logically that the Drake boys can't possibly know that he's spent many a night touching himself quietly in their shared cell, imagining the very situation that they're presenting right now, and that they would never do anything like this in reality, but he can't quite kill the small furl of hope in his chest.

Hernando chuckles easily. "I don't blame you, gringo. You're a very lucky man." He walks away without a fight, and as soon as he's out of range, all three men sigh in relief. 

"Here." Sam gently ushers Rafe into a deserted hallway, out of sight of the oppressive sun. Nathan checks over his shoulder and soon takes his place next to his brother. Rafe can't help but notice that they've got him with his back to the wall. Normally, he doesn't like being cornered, but the Drakes have proven their trustworthiness by now. 

"They should leave you alone now," Nathan says quietly. "Sorry we had to do that."

Rafe shrugs one shoulder. "It's alright. Cover story, right? I'm just glad you guys showed up when you did, I'm not the nicest fellow around. I probably would have gotten my shit pushed in. Maybe a little more literally than I would like."

Sam stiffens slightly before reaching out, laying his hand on Rafe's bicep. Rafe relaxes when Sam starts to softly run his hand up and down. It seems to soothe the elder Drake brother as much as it does him. "We keep our eyes on you," Sam says casually.

"Thanks for that," Rafe says. He knows that they know that he can look after himself, but it's a nice feeling knowing someone else has his back. Rafe opens his mouth when he turns his head at the sound of footsteps. The Drakes act fast. Sam backs swiftly into an open cell, Nathan shoves Rafe in, crowding behind him, and Sam seals his mouth over Rafe's. Nathan lays his hands on Rafe's hips, stroking. Sam swallows Rafe's surprised noise, Nathan's hands encouraging Rafe to easily grind between the brothers, hoping to rile them up. Nathan growls and latches his mouth onto Rafe's neck, worrying the skin between his teeth.

"Lovebirds," a man calls, and Rafe turns to look. There's a man standing there, looking amused and a little turned on. "Save that for noche, yeah? Get out there," he inclines his head in the direction of the yard. Nathan makes sure to walk in between Rafe and the guard.

"Sorry again," Sam apologizes once they're out of earshot.

"It's fine," Rafe replies, too quickly, trying to keep his breathing level. He can feel the phantom brand of the men, one at his front and the other at his back. They are furnaces in the Mexico heat, which should gross him out but in reality only makes him hotter- literally and figuratively. 

"Rafe," Nathan starts, almost questioning.

"Nathan," Rafe replies easily.

"Are you gay?" Sam smacks his brother in the arm with the hand not currently on Rafe's waist, but Rafe just shakes his head.

"Not particularly. But I have had all sorts of partners." Rafe can feel Sam's hand tighten just slightly, and he hides his glee with a derisive snort. "Why, are the Drake boys getting jealous?" The other men lock eyes, and Rafe's self-confident smirk slides off his face. And then they turn predatory gazes to him, and he swallows reflexively. 

"We'll talk tonight," Sam says, low and soft. And in a flash, they're both gone, leaving Rafe almost cold in the middle of the yard. 

 

 

The boys really weren't joking. Later, when they're all in the cells and lights-out has been called, all of them laying in their beds, Nathan in a bunk above Rafe, a hand clamps over Rafe's shoulder. "Wake up," he whispers, and Nathan slithers down to the floor, landing lightly on his toes. Fucking parkour. 

"Wasn't asleep," Rafe says quietly back, slowly sitting up and ducking under the bunk. As soon as his head's clear, a pair of hands consisting of one of Nathan's and one of Sam's pull him upright and pressed between them, this time facing Nathan and his back against Sam. 

"Right," Nathan says, teeth glinting in the low light that spills under the guard break room door at the end of the hall to the right. "Just like you weren't asleep all those other times."

Rafe's heart skips. "I don't know what you're talking about," he protests stubbornly.

"Oh," Sam asks, resting his hands on Rafe's hips and gently working them under his shirt, flipping it up so it exposes his lower belly. Rafe's breath hitches, and both Drakes smirk. "You don't, do you?"

"Then I guess I just imagined all those times I heard you shifting in your bunk," Nathan remarks.

"At first I just thought you were a tossy sleeper," Sam shrugs. "But then I heard you spit," he eyes darken. 

"Onto your hand, probably. And then you must have slid it into your pants."

"You're not subtle, Rafe," Sam chuckles, and Rafe flushes. Sam starts gently pulling Rafe onto his crotch, letting him feel. Rafe whines deep in his throat, wanting the real thing. 

"Not at all," Nathan agrees, watching hungrily. "I ignored it at first; after all, a man has his needs. But then you started whimpering, softly, muffled, like you had your hand over your mouth. But it was so beautiful."

"And God, how I wanted to get out of bed, go over there, turn you over and really make you scream."

"But that wouldn't be fair to Sam, would it," Nathan asks, insinuating that he thought the same thing. He watches his brother rile Rafe up, smiling when Rafe clutches at the bottom of his shirt. Nathan steps closer, and Rafe's hands flatten out, skimming the hard muscle hidden under his shirt. "No, we grew up nicely. Share everything," he purrs, trailing his fingers along Rafe's chest.

"Food, toys," Sam murmurs into Rafe's ear, hooking his chin over his shoulder. 

"And this was just the prettiest toy we've ever gotten," Nathan breathes into Rafe's other ear. 

Sam swallows. "And then you started saying our names."

"Mine first," Nathan says, self-satisfied.

"Mine a touch louder," Sam fires back. "And we knew, when we saw each other the next morning."

"That we had to have you."

"We tried so hard to fight it."

"But there was our pretty pet, playing all by himself and whining so prettily for us."

"We thought maybe you'd get bold, desperate."

"Maybe start flirting," Nathan skims his nose down Rafe's jaw, and the man might just have a heart attack.

"But you didn't," Sam complains.

"You were the same old Rafe. But there was something we didn't see before."

"A glance here."

"A swallow there," Nathan drops his eyes to Rafe's throat. Rafe swallows.

"An adjustment rarely," Sam slides his hand down and cups Rafe, making him gasp and grind into it. He can feel Nathan beyond Sam's hand, his thighs pressed against his own. It's driving him crazy.

"And then I saw the glances you got," Nathan growls.

"Harmless enough; you are the prettiest thing in here."

"But it still pissed me the fuck off."

"And today was the final straw."

"When he had the audacity to actually approach you. I thought I made it clear when I beat the shit out of anyone who said your name."

"So I had to show up too," Sam soothes quietly. "Show you that you could have both of us, if you wanted."

"Why didn't you say anything, sweetheart?"

Sam slows his hand, making Rafe whine, but holds his hand there while Nathan stills Rafe's hips. Rafe's head clears just enough to form coherent sentences through his panting. "What, and get myself laughed at," Rafe asks. "Or worse yet, get the shit beat out of me and tossed to fend for myself? You guys are brothers, it's not like most want this."

Nathan hums softly, and Sam brings up a hand that has been resting on Rafe's waist all this time, reaching up and turning Rafe's head slightly to lean on his shoulder, offering that now-tan skin to Nathan. Nathan grunts his thanks and dives in, biting little red marks into the flesh. Rafe whines loudly, and Sam slides those fingers into his mouth to quiet him. Rafe laps at the digits, thankful for something. And he also wants to show Sam just how good of a pretty pet he can be for him and Nate. He grinds forward against Nathan, eyes fluttering, and the man bites into his shoulder and grinds back. Sam moans at the feeling of Rafe's tongue against his fingers, and he grinds into Rafe's ass, pressing the man deliciously between the Drakes. Rafe makes a muffled complaining noise, and Sam slides his fingers out.

"What is it, darling," Sam asks, the hint of his Boston accent coming out around the 'r.' It's always been stronger than Nate's. 

"Want you to fuck me," Rafe husks desperately, moving against Sam. "Want to swallow you," he adds, surging forwards onto Nathan. He brings up his hands to clutch the back of the brothers' heads.

Nathan pulls himself away from Rafe's neck at last, looking at the purple expanse with satisfaction. "God damn, if that doesn't sound good," Nathan says, grabbing Rafe's hip and dragging him against him, panting. 

"Not tonight," Sam says, and both of the others turn puppy-dog eyes to him. "I don't know about you, Nate, but I'm about to blow," Sam admits without shame. "And one touch will set our boy here off," he says conversationally, like he hasn't just re-written Rafe's whole world. Our boy. He belongs to them. 

"I'm not too far behind," Nathan nods.

"When I get inside him, I want to last," Sam palms Rafe's ass lovingly. "Don't you?"

Nathan nods again, and Rafe whines pitifully. He doesn't want to wait. He uses the hand anchored in Sam's hair to tug him down into a bruising kiss. Nathan watches, and Rafe keeps his eyes on him, looking him up and down.

Nathan backs off a step, making Rafe pull away and open his mouth, but Nathan just fumbles with his own pants, making Rafe keep his mouth open in awe. Sam nips his earlobe. Rafe just watches as Nathan pushes his pants down a little, rucking his shirt up. Sam latches onto Rafe's neck, adding his own marks in between and over Nathan's. Rafe whines quietly, eyes locked onto where Nathan had wrapped a hand around himself.

"Like that, Rafe," Nathan asks breathlessly. Rafe nods, whimpering, and Sam looks over, satisfied with how adorned Rafe's neck is. 

"You want that in you, pretty pet," Sam asks, having cottoned on to the fact that Rafe loves the nickname. "You said you wanted to swallow it. Think you can to the root," he asks, watching Nathan lazily stroke himself, slow and easy. Sam presses against Rafe as he undoes the front of the man's pants. Nathan's eyes drop to it and his hand stills. When Sam takes him in hand, Rafe's entire body bows backward, the man pushing himself onto his toes. Both Drakes watch avidly. "Beautiful," Sam murmurs. Rafe settles, panting, and clutches backwards at Sam's shoulders. 

"So pretty riding Sam like that," Nathan says, voice rough. "Wanna see you do it for real. Shoving yourself onto his cock. Think you can take it? It's a little longer than mine, sweetheart. I'm thicker, though."

"Do you think you would be messy swallowing Nate's cock," Sam asks. "Spit dribbling out, so eager to slam your mouth onto him. Your voice would be wrecked for days, everyone would know what you did."

"God, you'd look amazing speared on Sam's cock," Nathan breathes, and Rafe reels, trying to keep up with both mental pictures at once.

"God," Rafe huffs, the only word he's said in a while. 

"I wonder, would you pull back just as he started coming, letting it collect on your tongue so you could taste him? Or would you slam onto him so that it went right down your whore throat," Sam growls, and Rafe thrills. "Or," Sam pauses, seeming to think as he looks Nathan in the eye. "Would you pull off entirely, let him cover your face in it?" Both Nathan and Rafe go stock-still. "Would he let you clean it off, with your fingers and tongue? Would he help you? Or would he make you leave just a little, make you walk around like that so that everyone would see that you're ours," Sam snarls the last word. Nathan whines right along with Rafe.

"Please, please," Rafe begs.

"I wonder the same thing, big brother," Nathan smiles. Neither Drake misses the way Rafe's cock jumps in Sam's hand. "Oh, you like it when we say 'brother,' don't you? Brothers are close; they experiment sometimes," he says, smirking at Sam. But he still doesn't miss the way Rafe's face glazes over. "I'll tell you all about it in time. But back to business," he chuckles. "I wonder if you'd let him come in you, Rafe. We're clean, we make sure of it," he says, smiling as he watches Sam's hand tighten a little around Rafe. "Or if he'd pull out, marking your back. I'd help you clean up, of course," Nathan shrugs, and Rafe is sure that the younger Drake shares his oral fixation. "Clean you up from the inside, make you feel so goddamned good," he promises, eyes glittering. "And if he marked your back, I don't know, Rafe. I don't know if I'd help him rub his scent in or lick it up, share the taste with you," he says, watching Rafe's eyes dilate. "I'm very good at sharing sometimes," he smirks. Rafe pulls and tugs Sam's shoulders, urging him faster. He's so close now. 

"You're ours, darling," Sam promises, obliging.

"And we're never letting you go."

Rafe lets himself go at that, clapping one hand to his mouth to smother the scream. Nathan swears and speeds up, covering his own hand as he watches Sam gently let Rafe go and tuck him away, one hand covered in Rafe's release. Rafe watches as Nathan brings his hand to his mouth and tastes himself, never taking his eyes off Rafe. Rafe whines.

"You want some, pet," Nathan asks, and Rafe nods, extending a hand to him. Nathan tucks himself away and leaves his pants loose about his hips, stepping forward and holding that hand in front of Rafe's face. Rafe wraps a hand around Nathan's wrist, looking through his eyelashes at him. Nathan understands and bends his head, meeting Rafe's eyes. They clean his hand together, Rafe starting from the thumb and Nathan from the pinky. Rafe makes sure to take plenty of breaks and kiss Nathan, sharing. He can be good about sharing sometimes, too. As long as it's only with the Drakes. Sam groans behind him when they finish up, vibrations going through Rafe's back.

Rafe looks back at him, curious. He realizes as he turns around. "Did you even come," Rafe asks, dropping concerned eyes to Sam's pants. He's still hard, so even if he had, he needs to again. 

"No," Sam shakes his head, and Rafe notices that he's holding his left hand away from his body, and Rafe looks at it. It's the hand that he used to bring Rafe off. Apologetic, Rafe hooks his fingers into Sam's waistband.

"Fuck, sorry bro," Nathan says, pressing against Rafe's back, and he helps Rafe undo Sam's pants. Rafe wraps his hand around Sam loosely, encouraging him to thrust into it. Sam pants lightly, eyes dark. Rafe notices that Sam is staring at his brother over Rafe's shoulder, and Rafe looks. Nathan has a spot on the corner of his lips, and Sam tugs him forward with his clean right hand and licks it off. 

"Fuck," Rafe swears. Sam thrusts against him, growling softly. He offers his left hand, putting it between Nathan and Rafe's faces. They lean forward without question, taking their time. Nathan gathers a good mouthful and shares with Rafe, making Sam whine softly. "You want some," Rafe asks innocently, smirking. Sam shakes his head, laying his hand over Rafe's and tightening it around him, showing him what he likes. Sam comes quickly after that, and Nathan and Rafe clean those hands, too. Rafe leans against Sam, tired. His jaw aches slightly and his lips tingle from all the kissing. "You like watching," Rafe asks sleepily, letting Nathan coax him back to lean on him and tilting his head, letting Sam kiss along his jaw. Sam nods against him. Rafe leans forward to whisper into his ear. "Good thing I like being watched." He remembers all over again that the other prisoners probably heard it all, and he looks over Sam's shoulder out the cell door. A guard comes from the left, limping slightly and not looking into the cell, but Rafe can see that the back of his neck and tips of his ears are red. Rafe bites into the collar of Sam's shirt to stifle the moan. 

"Fuck, so perfect for us," Sam says, manhandling them all to lay on his bed; Nathan pressed against the wall, Rafe in the middle, and Sam curled around him on the outside. Rafe adjusts them all, making use of the space and getting them all comfortable so that Sam isn't in danger of falling off. Sam murmurs his thanks into the hollow of Rafe's throat, and the Drakes lace their fingers on top of Rafe's hip. The man sighs contentedly. This will be good.


End file.
